


the leaf blower incident

by salazarsslytherin



Series: old married maycury [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Freddie Mercury Lives, M/M, Old Married Couple, that's it that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-11-02 03:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarsslytherin/pseuds/salazarsslytherin
Summary: It is not, in fact, the leaf blowers that wake Freddie.It’s his husband.





	the leaf blower incident

**Author's Note:**

> i read [this post](https://brianmay.com/brian/brianssb/brianssbnov16a.html#01) from brian's blog and this idea would not leave (geddit??) me alone so this is short and rough but old married trope is SUCH a great trope i couldn't resist
> 
> also i think this technically belongs in the same verse as my 'i'm gonna marry you one day' fic from maycury week and i'm kind of taken by the whole thing so i might add some more little drabbles when ideas come to me! feel free to suggest any prompts or ideas <3

It is not, in fact, the leaf blowers that wake Freddie.

It’s his husband.

He’d been happily asleep, dreaming about something or other, something nice and peaceful that’s fast slipping away as he’s yanked none-too-gracefully into the land of the unfortunately awake.The time on the clock says that it’s just past eight. 

“_Freddie_,” Brian hisses, in the sort of tone that tells Freddie this isn’t the first time he’s said it.Probably not the second or third, either.“Fred.Can you hear that?That is absolutely ridiculous.”

“What?” Freddie asks, rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut.It’s eight in the morning, it’s too early to be awake.He didn’t become a famous rockstar and conquer the entire fucking world to be woken at eight in the morning, thank you very much. 

“That!Can’t you hear it?Christ!”

“I can hear _you_,” Freddie grumbles, not turning around.He _can_ hear something, actually.A sort of engine sound, like a lawn mower or something, but Brian is definitely louder.

And far more disruptive in general when he gets out of the fucking bed, dragging the covers with him.

“Fucking hell, Bri!” Freddie gasps, curling into a tight ball.“Are you aware that it’s _November_?” 

“Oh come off it, the heating’s been on half the night,” Brian says, though he does chuck the covers back over Freddie before walking over to the window, where he proceeds to throw the curtains open wide, letting the winter-morning sun come streaming in, brighter than any stage light Freddie’s melted under.

“Darling!” Freddie cries, dismayed.He throws an arm over his face but it’s too late; he’s well and truly awake now.And now the curtains are open, he can hear the noise that’s gotten Brian in a tizz.It _is_, admittedly, early to be leaf blowing, but Freddie doesn’t give two hoots about that when _he_ had been perfectly happy and asleep until _Brian_ decided to be all righteous and loud.

“Look at this!” Brian says loudly, peering through the window.“There’s got to be five of them out here, at least!No, six!There was another one behind that van.Look, Freddie!”

“I’m not looking at anything,” Freddie says resolutely.Maybe if Brian will just shut up for a moment he’ll be able to drift back off.

“They shouldn’t be allowed to do that,” Brian says, and Freddie, who has been on the receiving end of many a Brian May lecture in his life, recognises that tone with mounting horror.He’s only just getting started, working up a head of steam.“It’s eight in the morning.Absolutely ridiculous.People are _asleep_.Children live on this street!Parents who’ve been up all night with them and now they have to deal with this.”

Freddie rolls onto his front, very pointedly ignoring him. 

“And that van, as well!How are cars supposed to get by that?”

Freddie can hear the shutter of his iPhone camera going off and sighs into his pillow.Times gone by, Brian used to wake him up with a sweet kiss and a cup of tea, a gentle ‘Good morning, my love’ or sometimes, in their younger years, with a vigorous fuck.Nowadays Freddie gets woken up to disgruntled ranting about the council and men in high-vis jackets.

“They’re not even doing a good job,” Brian continues, as though Freddie is equally as incensed as him and not his unwilling audience, trapped by the warmth of their bed and unable to escape.The floor is just too cold.That’s the price you pay for antique oak floorboards.Gorgeous, and the original flooring that came with the house, but absolute murder on a bare foot on a chilly November morning. 

“Do you remember Billy?” he asks, though _what_ about Freddie’s behaviour seems to make him think Freddie’s going to reply, Freddie has no idea.“He used to come out here and sweep up with a real broom and he’d do a proper job of it, too.Always said hello.I liked him.Do you remember, Fred?”

“I remember five minutes ago when I was asleep,” Freddie says, muffled because he hasn’t turned his face out of his pillow.“Come back to bed, Bri, for fuck sake.”

“I’m hardly going to be able to sleep with all that racket going on!” Brian says, staring out the window again.

“Just come and cuddle me, then,” Freddie says poutily, because that’s usually a winner.Brian can never resist a cuddle.

He _does_ edge away from the window but he doesn’t return to bed.“You’d think they’d be a bit more considerate, wouldn’t you?” Brian says, thumbing through the photos he’s taken.“It’s a nice neighbourhood, this.”

“Bri!”Freddie thinks he might be moved to get out of bed in a second only so he can _strangle_ the ridiculous man.

Thankfully, Brian does finally snap the curtains back closed and slinks back to bed, still fuming.“All they do is blow the damn leaves around,” he says, wrenching the covers in such a temper he nearly dislodges Freddie, who’s clinging to them, from the bed entirely.“They haven’t even tidied the street up at all.I wouldn’t _mind_ so much if they were actually doing a half-decent job but they’re just—”

“Brian,” Freddie interrupts, uncurling from the blankets and pressing against him for some extra warmth; he’s bloody freezing now.“_Please_.They’ll stop soon.”

“They’d better,” Brian mutters and falls quiet.

Freddie closes his eyes again; it’s unlikely now but he thinks he might be able to at least doze for a little bit, even though he is now painfully aware of the leaf blowers outside, thanks to Brian.

Then after a minute he becomes aware of the tell-tale clicking of the keyboard on Brian’s phone, because he never puts the damned thing on silent, and Freddie cracks his eyes open again.

“What _are_ you doing, darling?”

“I’m writing a post about it,” Brian tells him, turning the screen so Freddie can see the mobile version of his Soapbox webpage thing.“Other people are in the same situation, if everyone sends in a complaint then they’ll _have_ to do something.”

Freddie sighs but doesn’t argue; there’s no dissuading Brian when he’s off on a new crusade. It’s irritating sometimes, particularly when Freddie’s tired and just wants to sleep and maybe cuddle for a bit, but in all honesty he wouldn’t have him any other way. 


End file.
